


Say 'No' to Zombies!

by tiffanycrystal



Series: The Survivor Chronicles [1]
Category: Original Work, zombies - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Common Sense, Humor, Making it up As I Go Along, Multi, Other, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, the dog doesn't die, this is fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2018-10-07 21:50:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10370268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiffanycrystal/pseuds/tiffanycrystal
Summary: What happens when a person with some common sense wakes up to a “zombie apocalypse”? Shit gets done, that’s what.Spoiler: the dog doesn’t die.***Completed***





	1. Day 1

Day 1  
11:38am

If you’re reading this, either we’ve all survived or you found this in a room scattered with dead bodies, and I am among them.

Possibly.

If I’m not, you know, sneaking up behind you right now. I don’t know how this crap started or how it spreads, so it’s entirely possible that I am not fully dead, in which case…oops?

Well, what do you want from me? I’m writing this, curled up in a corner of the room, listening to screams and the sound of people running outside my apartment. I don’t know what the fuck is happening, all I know is what I can see from my window.

Which, okay, is mostly people running around screaming and cars gridlocked. Occasionally, I’ll see a man or a woman stumbling along. If I hadn’t caught the news this morning, I would’ve just assumed they were drunk.

By the way, The Walking Dead got it wrong. There is no military movement out there. There aren’t cops running around trying to do jack shit. And I’m pretty sure the hospital staff all ran for the hills. I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I haven’t seen any ambulances or heard any sirens, so that’s what I’m assuming.

Annnnnd, you’re probably confused as fuck right now, okay let me back up.

Friday night, I went to bed around 2 am. Everything was normal.

Saturday morning, I woke up to the sound of screams. Not unusual, considering some of my neighbors, but not an everyday occurrence either. Usually they manage to work out their…issues…pretty quick, but after about an hour, I kinda figured something wasn’t right.

I knew better than to open my front door to see what was going on. I’ve watched enough horror movies to know that that doesn’t _ever_ end well. So I pushed my couch to block my door and turned on the TV instead.

Zombies.

First thought: you’ve _got_ to be fucking kidding me.

Second: no, seriously, you’re fucking kidding, right?

Third: …fuck.

And that’s when I sprang into what little action I could take. Took me a nice hot shower, cause who knows how long the hot water is going to last. Started filling up all the bottles I could find with water. Dug out my suitcase with wheels, duffel bag, and backpack and started stocking them with things I would need.

Fortunately for me, my family likes camping enough that I have a set of pots and pans designed for cooking on the go. I shoved that, all of the cans of food I could find, a couple bowls and a can opener into the suitcase, as well as a bunch of silverware and bottles of water. Pretty much, all the heavy stuff that I wouldn’t want to carry on my back got shoved in there. The duffel bag has clothes in it, and soap. I dumped my medicine cabinet into the backpack, a couple more bottles of water, a bowl and all the ramen I could fit.

Now that I’m thinking about it, that doesn’t make much sense. I meant for the backpack to carry the stuff I didn’t want to lose, but what use is ramen without a pan to cook it in? Okay, time to rearrange shit. Collapsible pots and pans are going into the backpack along with the ramen. They’re not that heavy, so it should be fine. I moved the bowl back to the suitcase. I can just eat the ramen out of the pan.

Shit, no fork.

You know the best part of writing this shit down, instead of trying to record it? No one has to sit through annoying pauses while I run around rearranging crap.

So yeah, now I have a couple forks in the backpack, too. Batteries! I need batteries! And flashlights…candles would good. Okay. I think I’m good now. Batteries, flashlights, candles, matches. I have this wide belt that I’m cutting holes in to hold knives and a hammer.

Dammit, I just remembered…I have one of those hiking backpacks. If I use that, I could pack a tent, too. Shelter would be good, though I’m not exactly planning on leaving anytime soon.

I’ll have to think about it.

 

* * *

 

The first couple days were pretty much the same as that Saturday morning. Lots of screaming and running, people on tv were saying that it’s the end of the world. Still no news on how exactly this started. The only thing the different stations agree on is that it happened, literally, overnight. People went to bed, and woke up…zombies.

They don’t know if the people died in their sleep and the zombie virus/gene/mutation/whatthefuckever kicked in, or if the whatthefuckever doesn’t care about your living state when it takes over.

What we do know (in a nutshell):

  * we’re fucked.



Also:

  * it’s global. There are outbreaks _everywhere_.
  * they don’t just go for your brains. They’ll eat any part of you they can get to.
  * The zombies _can_ be stopped if you either destroy the heart or the brain (brain works best).
  * No one is safe. There are just as many kid zombies as grandparents. No babies yet, but that might just be a matter of time.
  * It does seem to be spread through bites, though that it doesn’t appear to be the _only_ way.
  * Already dead people _stay_ dead. There’s no reports of people crawling out of the ground or anything (thank god).



I’m still trying to figure out why the military isn’t out there shooting the zombies as they find them. It seems like it would make sense, but oh no, we can’t have that, can we? Fucking idiots.

At least the screaming in the hallway finally died down. I haven’t heard anyone running around in the halls for the past couple hours either. I figure they’ve already fled. Fat chance of them actually sitting their ass down and listening to the people on tv telling them not to panic. Yay for mob mentality?

I don’t know, but I’m really liking this ‘write shit down’ business. I’ve stopped writing three or four times in the past page to go eat and stuff and I bet you didn’t even notice. See how much boring shit I’m saving you from putting up with? (You’re welcome.)

Ah hell, someone is screaming again. And…they stopped. Well, that’s not worrying as fuck or anything. I think I’ll move a couple more things in front of my door. Just to be safe.

* * *

 

I just re-read what I was writing, and I should probably explain. Today is Tuesday. I know it says “day 1” up there, and it kinda was? I’ve been writing as I go. I guess it should say “day 4”, but that doesn’t sound quite as…I don’t know. Exciting?

Besides, it’s not like it really matters. I don’t care, and I kinda doubt you do.

Okay, so anyway. It’s day 4, but it’s staying day 1. Dammit. Day 4 and the only thing that has changed is  the thumping sound I’ll hear every once in a while next door.

Oh, right. I’m in New York. City. Did I mention I live in an apartment? Shit, I don’t remember. But yeah. I do. Eighth floor. Surprisingly enough, it’s _not_ a bad place to be in case of a zombie apocalypse. Especially this high up. I have five other neighbors on this floor. One on each side of me, and three others across the hall. The apartment I keep hearing thumps from belongs to a single mother and her two boys. I’ve only seen them a couple times but they’re cute kids. I’m just really hoping the thumping is them playing and not…ugh. I’m not even going to think about it.

Power is still on. Water is still running clear. I’m eating the last of this mac-n-cheese, drinking the last bit of milk and then going to bed. My belt is about as done as it’s going to get, and it’s time to start exploring outside my apartment. If my neighbors are gone like I think they are, there’s probably plenty of perishable food in their apartments. I’d rather finish that food off before I start making a dent in my canned food stash.

Goodnight world. Hopefully I’ll be back for Day ~~5~~ 2.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The looting begins. Day 3 is when it gets a little more exciting.

 

April 19th

Day 2  
12:58pm

I got a bit of a late start, and I haven’t actually got around to checking out my neighbors yet, but I have a good reason.

So, last night. Found out something interesting. Just after I finished up yesterday’s journal entry, I thought I would take a quick look outside. So yeah. I look out there, and guess what?

The whatthefuckever doesn’t care about your living status. I saw it myself. Man and woman were out walking (WHY would you be out walking after dark when  there are flesh eating ZOMBIES out there? Seriously?!). I thought the woman tripped over something, then I saw a puddle of...well, it looked black, but it was also nighttime and far away. But anyway, it was spreading around her. Predictably, the guy took off running. A couple minutes later, the woman got back to her feet and started stumbling along down the road.

I haven’t looked out there yet today, but I’m guessing there’s going to be a large brown spot on the concrete where she was. Unless she really did throw up something black...I don’t know. I don’t care either. Not really. I mean, it’d be good to know the warning signs, but from what I saw, by the time it gets to the point where you know the person is gonna turn, it’s too late to do shit about it.

So yeah. Fun times. I have two eggs left in my fridge and some butter. Gonna make me some scrambled eggs and then start checking out the neighbors.

 

* * *

 

7:15pm

Okay, so today has been pretty productive. I was banking on the hall lights still working since the power is still on, but I used my peephole to make sure. I was right, by the way. And I noticed something interesting: the door across the hall from me was wide open.

The peephole only showed so much of the hallway, but I didn’t see any movement from what I could see (she sells sea shells…). I kept my hammer in hand and opened the door, easing out into the hallway.

Nothing. And no one. I made sure to close my door behind me, but I didn’t lock it. I darted across the hall into the apartment across from me and closed - and locked - the door behind me.

The apartment was silent, so far so good. The layout was the same as mine; I checked it out quick. As expected, it was deserted. A quick check through the bedroom told me a man had lived here before, but I don’t remember ever seeing him.

I checked his fridge, but typical bachelor, most of the food was either spoiled, or too close for me to risk it. He had plenty of ramen though. I grabbed a trash bag out of the cabinet, tossed the packages of noodles in and made my way through the rest of the apartment, filling the bag with all the batteries I could find. He had a stash of candles, I added them to the bag, along with a battery operated radio and a flashlight.

Man, I hit the jackpot with his medicine cabinet. Razors, pain meds - I’m talking the prescription strength stuff here. Even a bottle of amoxicillin. Half empty, but it’s better than nothing. Whole shitload of bandaids, a couple ace bandages, vitamins out the wazoo. I’m not sure why he had a pair of tweezers, but I tossed them in with the rest of the “loot”. There is literally no telling what I’ll find once I have to leave this place, and I know my luck. I won’t even make it out of the door before I manage to get glass or wood stuck somewhere it shouldn’t be. So yeah. Tweezers. Tweezers are good. Tweezers are wonderful. Tweezers are staying with me at all times.

He had a couple bars of soap, and a can of spray deodorant. I took them, and made my way back to the bedroom.

This guy had a lot of those cotton undershirts. Not much use to me, as they were, but I can cut them into strips and make more bandages if I have to. Or tie them together and make rope. I’m sure there’s like, a million things I can make out of them. The internet is still running, I'll have to do some research.

I almost left the box of condoms I found, but then I figured: bartering items. I just wished the guy smoked. Cigarettes would probably be a better trade item, but oh well.

Salt! I forgot about that. Sure enough, he had a jug of salt and a little thing of pepper. He had a jug of hot sauce in his fridge - I think I remember something about some animals and bugs not liking the smell of that crap. It might be something good to spray around a campsite to keep the creepy crawlies away.

I ganked all the knives I could find in the silverware drawer and - after checking through the peephole to make sure the way was clear - I hightailed it back to my place. I had plenty to add to my stash, but none of it would be good for dinner tonight, so I pretty much just dumped the bag and ventured out again.

The apartment on the other side of Mr. Bachelor wasn’t much better when it came to food in the fridge, but I did score an extra jug of milk. And I had a moment of genius: I took all of the jugs of crap out of the fridge, dumped them out, washed them real quick and tossed them in a bag. I can fill them up with water later.

I’m not sure who lived here, but they had a computer open and a printer, so I started doing some research while I was there, printing off guides for making traps and weapons (hey, better than using up all of my printer fluid). From what I’ve seen so far, I’m more worried about the humans than the zombies.

I found another rolling suitcase, this one is way bigger than mine, so I’m actually moving stuff from the other suitcase into the new one right now. I’m not sure how I’m going to haul all of this, but I’m figuring…

If I can make it down the street, I can probably gank a cart from the corner shop, or one of the homeless people I always see hanging around. If I get my hands on one of those, I’m pretty sure I can jerry rig it so I can pull it along behind me on a bike. If the path is clear, anyway. otherwise, I might ditch the bike and hightail it with the cart. It depends on who, or what, I’m running from. I’m gonna try and fit as much as I can on the bike, so I won’t lose too much if I do have to ditch anything, but it would be nice to keep it all together.

Make a long story short, I found a lot today. lots of batteries, lots of flashlights, and lots of knives. Oh, and duct tape! Motherfucking DUCT TAPE. I’m feeling damn near invincible right now, not even gonna lie.

Oh, and I decided against the hiking backpack. I want to take it, but it’s terrible for running in, and I have a feeling I’m going to be doing a lot of running. I’m still taking the tent though, and I’m trying to figure out I’m going to work in my sleeping bag. It’s early April, so the night is still a bit too cold to be sleeping without some kind of blanket.

~~I’m a little worried about my parents. I talked to them a couple times since all this started up, and they told me they were fine, but I haven’t heard from them at all today.~~

Just got off the phone with them. They live in bumfuck North Carolina, without a neighbor for miles, so they’re doing okay. Dad took the truck and went into town to pick up some dog food and canned food for him and mom. He said there were more zombies than he expected, but he had his shotgun with him, so they weren’t much trouble. I was a little worried about the sound drawing more of them, but he brushed it off.

Oh, and get this...man, I love my dad. He stopped by the police station before he headed back home. There was no one there, so he decided to help himself to all the guns and ammunition he could get his paws on. Then he swung by the liquor store to see if he could score some whiskey while he was at it.

The cops were there. ALL OF THEM. Dad decided he wasn’t going to risk it, not with all the guns and stuff sitting in the back of his truck. Mom is so pissed at him. I could hear her in the background bitching about him robbing the cops, and “what the hell is wrong with you! what are they supposed to do if they get a call about a bunch of zombies attacking a little family?”

Dad’s response: fat lotta good they’d do. They couldn’t even protect their guns!

So yeah. That’s my dad for you. He’s planning on making a run to the lumberyard next. He wants to build a wall around his land. My brother and his wife are headed out there to help him out. My sister-in-law is pregnant, or she’d be helping him build the wall, too. Her and my brother used to go to the shooting gallery all the time though, so she’s going to go as a lookout.

Dad wants me to head down there as soon as possible. I’m gonna try, but let’s face it: making it from NYC to BFE North Carolina on foot is not going to be easy. Hell, I’m not even sure how I’m going to make it out of the city at this point.

I figure I’ve probably got about two weeks left before the power goes out. I want to be moving before then, but I also want to give people time to calm the fuck down. So yeah, I don’t even know.

 

* * *

 

1:38am

I finished cleaning out all of the jugs I got from the neighbors. They’re all filled up with water and packed away. Suitcase switch is also done.

Thanks to the research online, I’ve found some pretty good uses for the makeup I’ve found. I used the lipstick to mark x’s on the doors of the apartments I’ve already looted, and I sprinkled the powder foundation in front of the doors of each apartment and the doors to the stairs and elevator. I sprinkled baby powder over the floor I would be able to see through my peephole too.

It’s not much of a warning system, but I don’t want to use up what little rope’ve scraped together to make a string of silverware. Besides, it wouldn’t make enough noise for me to hear through the door anyway.

Final notes for the day:

I’m still a little nervous about the apartments on my side of the building. I haven’t heard any thumping on the side where the kids lived, but there’s been a steady dragging sound now on the other side. I’ll check them both out tomorrow when I wake up. For now, I’m sleeping in the bathroom with the door firmly shut and locked. I don’t know yet if the zombies can open doors/climb stairs/bust through walls, and I’m not about to take any chances.

See you tomorrow?


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, it starts to pick up soon.

April 20th  
Day 3  
Noon.

Well, I didn’t get eaten. Ate? Whatever. I’m still alive. No zombies broke down the door or the wall, so I’m good.

I’ve done a little more research and I’ve decided that I am most probably screwed. Royally.

The only _real_ way to get out of NYC involves bridges or tunnels. Both are perfect targets for bandits, and this is NY, so you _know_ there will be bandits. There’s a ferry, but yeah, I’m not counting on that.

My plan is still to get a move on soon. Live or die, I can’t just sit here. Food will run out soon enough, my parents will be worried, and there’s no telling how long my phone will still work. I’m giving myself another two days – tops – and  then I’m out of here.

I ate before I wrote this. So I’m off to check out the other neighbors. I’m starting with the thump-thump side. The dragging sound is still going on on the other side. I’m tempted to skip that apartment completely, but it would be good to practice fighting these things. I’ve been watching them outside and they don’t move very fast, and they don’t _seem_ to be any stronger than a regular human, so that’s good at least. If I’m gonna be out there fighting them though, I need some idea of how they act when there’s food nearby.

Also, I’m getting really tired of calling them ‘zombies’. It’s so cliché, even if that _is_ what the news people are calling them. And fuck that PC crap. They are _not_ “the deceased”…they’re “oh fuck this”, _that’s_ what they are. Too long though. Need a shorter name. I’ll think about it later. I have my belt on, it’s time to go.

* * *

 

5:13pm

What I know now:

  1. The trolls (my new name for the zombies) can move somewhat fast when they want to. Not much faster than a jog, but that can still be a bad thing.
  2. Hammers are good in a pinch, but baseball bats are _much_ better for playing whack-a-troll.
  3. They’re not good with door handles. If the door opens away from them, and the handle is one of those long ones, not a round handle, there’s a chance they can open it, but they apparently lack the coordination to actually _grab_ the knob and turn it.
  4. From the way they shuffle their feet, it’s not likely they’ll be climbing any stairs. They might be able to drag themselves up a flight, if they’re motivated enough, but I’m guessing they’d have to be damn near starving. Our apartment building has an elevator _and_ a stair well. Guess which one we’ll be using?



Oh yeah. And now there’s a “we”. The thump-thump apartment wasn’t empty.

Backing up a bit:

Remember I said I was checking the thump-thump apartment first? Yeah. The door was locked. I knocked…wasn’t really expecting anyone to answer, but this is my life.

The door opened, I got jerked in through the opening and the door was slammed shut behind me before I could say “howdy fucking do?”

I’ll spare you the details, but basically her and the kids are okay.

Now.

They had ran out of food, and Abby (the mom) was too scared to scavenge. It took a while to convince her to let me go back to my place, but once she saw all the food I brought back, she started crying. I hated putting a dent in my supplies already, but I’m not heartless, and they needed it. I’ll just have to replace them before we leave.

Also, new change of plans:

We’re going to risk the ferry. Abby used to be one of the drivers, so she can drive the boat if there’s no one available. She also came up with some good ideas for barter items. Once I got rid of the troll, we left the boys alone in her apartment and went through the apartments again, collecting things like coffee, pot plants, sugar, you know, stuff like that (how the hell I missed the weed, I have _no_ fucking clue).

She’s closer to the stairs, so I moved all of my supplies into her apartment and started loading up the hiking backpack _and_ the other suitcase. Since there are two adults now, she’s going carry one, and I’ll take the other. Same thing with the suitcases. We also loaded up the kids backpacks with light stuff. The oldest one is 10, and the younger is 8, so there’s not too much they can carry but they can carry enough to be useful.

Also: they’re both in little league. Baseball. So yes, baseball bats. We’re still somewhat screwed, but at least we’ll go down swinging (oh shut up, I’m hilarious).

Dinner time.

* * *

8:10pm

I’m writing this while Abby’s getting the kids ready for bed. As soon as they’re settled, Abby and I are going to see about raiding upstairs. She tried suggesting raiding downstairs since the trolls can’t climb stairs very well, but I pointed out that 1) we haven’t heard any thumping around upstairs, so it’s more than likely empty, and 2) the trolls are shit with doors anyway, so even if we did have to run, as long as we make it to the stairwell, we should be okay.

Still going to try and make a run for it on Saturday. That gives us two days to make sure the kids are ready, and _we_ are ready.

Just have to call dad and let him know about the new development. And to suggest running back into town for things like milk and eggs. Perishable food first, dad! Gonna remind him to pick up seeds and stuff, too. If he’s going to build a wall, we’re gonna need to be somewhat self-sustainable. That means growing our own food.

He has enough land, it shouldn’t be a problem to set aside a good part of it for farming. Course, knowing him, he’s probably already working on it.

Real quick note: news thing came on while we were eating. Apparently the whole “destroy their heart” business is a bust. It does a lot of damage, but it doesn’t kill them outright.

Still don’t know if it affects animals.

* * *

 

12:14 am

Abby and I raided upstairs. On the upside, I was right and it was deserted (also, the stairwells were empty. I’m not looking forward to going down 8 flights of stairs, but I’m not trusting the elevator), so we managed to score a _lot_ of useful crap. One of the apartments had a bike. Another had a whole carton of cigarettes, not even opened yet.

We bagged the crap up as we went and left it by the stairs. We split the apartments up between us (don’t worry, we checked each one together first – all the nooks and crannies and other possible hiding spots for trolls. The apartments were all clear), and managed to knock them out pretty well.

We ended up checking the apartments twice, though. Abby went through some and missed stuff that I thought was important, and I missed stuff _she_ thought was important, but the overall haul was good.

We have thick jackets for the kids, which should provide _some_ protection at least, and a shit-ton of batteries and flashlights now.

Abby used one of the people’s laptops to look up nearby bike stores. There’s one not too far from the ferry. We’re not sure how the roads are going to be though, so we’re not sure if it’s worth the risk. I’m hoping we’ll find some abandoned ones along the way so we don’t have to worry about it. I’m more interested in the pharmacies between here and there. Antibiotics are going to be _really_ important, especially with the kids.

She also checked to see if there was any news on what streets were safe, if the ferry was still running, if the _subway_ was still running.

The reports are kinda good? It appears most of the trolls are on the far north side, and the far _south_ side. We’re right in the middle. Abby said she’s been watching the streets since this whole thing went down, and she hasn’t seen that many walking around. The theory is that most of them are either stuck in the buildings (not good, but kinda good?), or because everyone panicked and ran, there were less people here to turn into the trolls. Either way, it’s kinda good news. We only have to make it a couple miles to the ferry, and once we’re across the bay, I’m going to try and keep us away from the roads.

Abby is still balking at the hiking idea, but if we stay away from roads, that means less humans. Less humans = less trolls.

We’ll still have to make supply runs every once in awhile, but if we’re smart about it, we should be fine.

Let’s see, what else did we find?

Ah, one of the apartments had art stuff in it. We grabbed a couple bottles of turpentine and paint thinner (I thought they were the same thing?), and a bunch of cleaners. Gonna try our hands at making molotov cocktails.

We also possibly found a way to make the suitcase wheels be a lot less noisy on the sidewalk. The artist guy/girl/whatever had a hot glue gun sitting out on their counter (unplugged, thankfully). Abby says she has some shoes the boys outgrew (shit, another issue we’ll have to work around…). We’re going to cut the soles into strips and hot glue them around the wheels. It’d be great if we could get one of those shopping carts and bring it inside so we could do the same thing with it, but somehow I don’t think it’d be quite as effective. Too much metal clanging around. Unless…if we wrapped the metal parts with blankets or clothes, that might help keep the sound down.

That supposes we can even get our hands on a cart. I mean, it _should_ be easy to do, but we’ll have to see.

In the meantime, I’m making a “shopping” list of stuff we need before we take off. Or at least, before we get out of the city.

  * more duct tape (can never have too much)
  * medicines, even just over the counter stuff would be good
  * SHOES. with all the walking we’ll be doing, we’re going to need good shoes
  * sunscreen
  * bug spray
  * ROPE!
  * map/road atlas (printing off google maps, but it would still be better to have an actual road map on us)
  * more baseball bats/hammers/weapons in general
  * bleach



Things that would be ideal, but not 100% necessary:

  * fruit
  * some kind of wagon/sleigh thing we can carry all this stuff in once we get to the woods/offroad.
  * saw
  * ax
  * another tent (we found some tarp we can jerry rig, but an actual tent would be so much better)
  * hats
  * prescription meds



 

That’s it for now. I’m sure there’s something I’m forgetting, but I need sleep. I’ve been up since around 11, and it’s after midnight now. Abby says the kids usually wake up pretty early. She’s been working on them though. Having them practice being really quiet, grabbing their backpacks and running to hide in the bathroom. Things like that.

They’re really good. If they do half as good on the road, we might actually survive this crap.

See you tomorrow.


	4. Day 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! Meant to post this yesterday, but I had two big assignments due, *and* I was working all day. So yeah, it was work -> homework -> BED.

**April 21st**

Day 4  
8:45am

Motherfuckingsonofabitch.

We’re all gonna die. Not only do we have THREE new people, TWO of them are dumbasses, and the third is a four year old!

Seriously, we’ve gone from “we might actually survive this” to “let’s just tie a bloody steak around our neck and swim with the fucking SHARKS.”

Jason (the oldest boy) woke Abby and I up around 6:30 because he heard a cell phone RINGING. In the HALLWAY.

He was such a smart boy about it, too. He made Timmy go hide before he woke us up. We sent him to hide and then got into position by the door (I am _so_ glad we made up a couple cocktails last night). I looked out the peephole, and yup. Movement. No dragging sound like the troll had made, but there was definitely something out there.

Our door was locked and we had the couch pushed in front of it, but I wasn’t counting on it holding anyone back for too long.

I heard voices. Two guys were talking about the footprints in the babypowder and the lipstick X’s on the doors. Oh, I could’ve kicked my own ass. ALL of the doors were marked except for mine and Abby’s.

I’m not going to go into the long of it. Not right now when I’m still pissed off, but yeah. New members of the group. Now we’re up to seven. Maybe it will be a lucky number?

Yeah, and maybe monkeys will fly out of my ass. So very fucked.

 

 

* * *

 

Sometime after noon.

HE WANTS TO LEAD?! He couldn’t even remember to TURN OFF or at least SILENCE his phone, and he wants to fucking LEAD?!

 

* * *

 

1:17pm

Oh, he’s so fucking _precious_. He should be leader because he has a gun. Mmhmm. Who has the FOOD, motherfucker? WHO has the person who knows how to drive the ferry? WHO actually has a PLAN? WHO HERE IS SMART ENOUGH TO PACK MORE THAN BEER AND RAMEN?!

 

* * *

1:45pm

I love Abby. Scott was waving around his gun and yelling and being a dumbass. Abby didn’t even say a word. She just handed me one of the molotovs and a lighter.

The fellows are now cooking lunch for us ladies.

* * *

 

4pm-ish

Okay, I’m in a _much_ better mood now, so I guess I should explain. Remember I said the couch and door wouldn’t hold long? I was right. They broke through it pretty quick.

Quick standoff, they had a gun and a crowbar. We have baseball bats and molotovs.

Cue tumbleweeds, wild west music, the whole nine yards.

Then this little girl’s voice pipes up “I’m hung’y daddy.”

Dave’s alright, but he’s _shit_ when it comes to planning ahead.

Oh right. Dave is “daddy”. The little girl is Chloe (she’s fucking _adorable_. Blonde hair, brown eyes, looks like a little cherub. Abby’s little boy is in _love_ with her.), and the dumbfuck with a gun and loud ass ringtone is Dave’s brother, Scott.

So, for those of you keeping track, we now have:

Me, Abby, Jason, Timmy, Dave, Dumbfuck Scott, and Chloe.

Yeah, good luck keeping them all straight. I keep calling Jason and Timmy the wrong names, and I have to remember not to call Scott “dumbfuck” outloud, no matter _how_ funny it is to see him glare.

So. After lunch, we all set around and had ourselves a _mature_ discussion about leadership and whatnot.

Scott has a gun, which is great, except that it’s noisy as hell and we don’t know how that will translate out there with the trolls. So the gun is shelved for now.

Since I’m the one with a plan/goal/brain/etc, I will be in charge of logistics. Scott will be in charge of shooting what I tell him to shoot. Abby has the most experience with kids, so she will be taking care of them and managing our supply levels (letting us know when we’re starting to get low on stuff). Dave is in charge of keeping Scott away from me so I don’t kill him.

We also set some ground rules:

  1. No yelling/screaming/arguing/making noise on the streets or in buildings that have not been thoroughly checked and/or near windows and doors.
  2. No doing anything stupid that will get us all killed (you’re allowed to get yourself killed, as long as you don’t take anyone with you).
  3. If anyone does anything stupid that puts the rest of us in danger, Scott is allowed to bash their head in.
  4. Two people are to be awake and on watch at all times. We’re working out a schedule for that.
  5. No checking to make sure a body is actually dead. If they’re on the ground, they’re beyond our help.
  6. No ASSUMING a body is dead. If it’s on the ground, it could be playing possum. Keep watch, keep your distance, and _keep moving_.
  7. Rations will be split up evenly. Extra rations will be given based on work.



I’m sure we’ll come up with more later. We were just trying to get the basics out of the way.

What else…

Dave and Scott did some scavenging on the lower levels, and managed to dig up a couple bookbags, but their supplies are just…no. Seriously. Beer and ramen. Dave at least thought to grab medicine crap and a crowbar.

We moved our base(?) downstairs to their apartment. Dave’s lived here for a about a year, Scott moved in with help out when Dave got custody of Chloe last month (not sure what happened there, and I don’t care. It’s not my business as long as it doesn’t get in the way of surviving this shit).

We went through the apartments on their floor again and got the guys some _real_ supplies. Chloe’s princess backpack now holds a pink sleeping bag, instead of coloring books (seriously, Dave?), and two bottles of water.

We also now have a working plan. We’re all going to eat well tonight, and get to bed early. First thing tomorrow morning, Scott and Dave are going to scout the stairwell and the other hallways. If the way is clear all the way down, Abby and I will load up the elevator with the kids and the suitcases and stuff instead of us trying to cart everything down seven flights of stairs.

There’s a pharmacy on the way to the ferry, so we’re going to _try_ and make it there and see what we can scrounge up. There’s also a couple gas stations between here and there, so maybe they’ll have a map or at atlas there.

Right now Abby and I putting the finishing touches on the suitcases. Dave and Jason went back upstairs to get the boys’ baseballs. Scott actually had a GOOD idea: if we need to distract the trolls, we can use the baseballs to set off car alarms. The sounds _should_ draw their attention away from us.

I’m not entirely sure it will work since dad said the sound from his shotgun didn’t seem to do anything to the trolls _he_ ran into, but it’s worth a shot.

Scott said there’s a sporting good store not too far from from the ferry. He wants to stop there and see about picking up fishing supplies. I told him it will depend on the streets. It’d be good to have fishing stuff, but not if the risk is too high. He wasn’t happy, but he saw my point.

Dave came up with a _really_ good idea. We went through all the apartments _again_ , and dug out the vacuum cleaners and extension cords. We cut the power cords from the vacuum cleaners and tied them together. We have over a hundred feet of rope now. We’re still going to try and get _real_ rope, but this will do for now.

Getting a cart is even more imperative now. Chloe is sweet and adorable, but she’s also _tiny_. There’s no way she’ll be able to keep up with us for long, and we’re not going to be able to carry her the whole way.

* * *

 

8:35pm

Chloe and Timmy are in bed. Jason should probably be in bed too, but we need him.

We….might have a problem. The streets on _my_ side of the apartment were pretty clear. I saw maybe 3-5 trolls an hour. The streets on the _other_ side of the building? We counted 7 in _half_ an hour. The lobby doors don’t open to either street (our building is strange), so there’s no telling how _that_ road is going to look, and we’ll still have to make it from the front door to the road that is clear(er).

The guys and I are going to do some scouting tonight. See if there’s a way around this, and if there are any carts nearby. We’ll be on conference call with our phones on hands free (bluetooth headsets, A+ for this kinda shit), Abby and Jason will keep us updated on movement on the different sides of the building. I’ll be watching from one of the windows in the stairwell. We won’t have eyes on the backside (haha), but there’s nothing we can really do about that.

* * *

9:45pm

Good news: We have a cart. It’s crappy, and not big enough to carry Chloe, but it’s a cart. We’re just waiting for the hot glue to cool off, and then we’re loading it up so it’s ready in the morning.

Bad news: Scott is a fucking idiot.

Okay, so the halls were all clear of trolls. Yay, right? Then we get to the lobby, and oh look. Five of ‘em. And right outside the front door? Another three. Scott and Dave wanted to get rid of the lobby lurkers, but I pointed out that it would be a dead giveaway that there’s _living_ people here, and the last thing we need to do is call attention to our presence, y’know?

But then Dave saw the cart. It was _right outside_ the doors. We think someone must’ve dropped it and ran when this whole thing started. We talked it over, and agreed that it was worth the risk. So the three of us got rid of the trolls in the lobby, and while the guys were taking out the ones outside the door, I grabbed the cart. I had to fight with it a little bit, there was a bunch of crap in it that didn’t want to dump out easy, but I finally managed it.

It’s one of those folding ones, so we didn’t bother with the elevator.

And okay, I’m a fucking idiot, too. Dave and I were already four floors up before I realized that Scott wasn’t with us.

Looked out the window on the landing, and dumbfuck was darting across the street, headed right for the street with all the trolls. I know there’s a corner store over there, but there are also PLENTY of _other_ stores on the way to the ferry, and at least _then_ he would have backup, but noooo, he has to go _now_. And we can’t call him, cause we don’t know if his dumbass remembered to turn off the ringer, and we can’t risk calling attention to him.

If he survives, I might just kill him myself. Abby and Dave are watching out the side windows, I’m watching from the stairwell. We sent

* * *

 

11something pm. I’m not looking at a clock.

SCOTT IS A FUCKING IDIOT.

He made it back. His arm is a mess, but he’s back. The only reason I’m not killing him now is because he brought back some really good stuff.

We had to raid another couple apartments to find a bag for all the bottles of sunscreen and bug repellent alone. The toilet paper and the duct tape went in the backpacks, along with the medicine packets. The ten cartons of cigarettes have been double bagged and spread out through all of our bags and suitcases.

We each have a map now, and hats proclaiming our love for New York. We still need to see about grabbing meds from a pharmacy, especially since dumbass managed to cut his arm pretty bad (one of the shelves was knocked over, and he was trying to push it back up to get to the stuff underneath it). At least he was smart enough to get his ass back home, instead of still fussing with it.

His arm is wrapped up now, and we’re making him take some of the amoxicillin I found. He said he just had a tetanus shot last year, and the sites online say that the shot should last about 10 years. We’ll have to see.

I’m checking the forums one more time tonight and then it’s off to bed. We’re leaving at the crack of dawn.

* * *

12:01am

_needarideinthesouthside says:_

“If you’re in Chelsea, and you want out, now’s the time to go. The zombies on the south side are getting restless and headed your way.

ETA (VERY rough estimate):

Canal:  @1:45am

Houston: @2:30am

East 14th: @3:15am

Guys, this isn’t just a couple or even a hundred. I’m talking about THE ENTIRE LOWER CITY. If you can’t make it out of there before they hit, you’d better hope you’re stocked up to stay a while.”

We’re between Houston and East 14th. We need to get to Canal (the ferry boats are gone, but needarideinthesouthside said there’s _two_ boats left at pier 26. One of them is his, if we can get it to him, he’ll guide us out to sea). If we move fast, we can still make it to a pharmacy before we reach the pier. Cart is packed, kids are dressed and ready. I’m writing this in the elevator on the way down to the lobby. Looks like it’s go time. Wish us luck.


	5. Day 5

April 22nd  
Day 5

  
The sky is starting to get lighter.

Fair warning: I’m fucking _exhausted_ , so mistakes galore. Bear with me, okay? it’s been a fucking rough 24 hours. Or, around there, anyway. I’m not even sure what time it is at this point. My phone is turned off for now I made sure it was fully charged before we left, but that’ll go fast if I leave it turned on. *snorts* All of the scavenging we did, and never thought to grab cellphone batteries.

We made it to the docks, by the way. We have meds, too. _Lots_ of meds. We also have two new people. Ben (needaride guy), and Shane, who has replaced Scott as “dumbfuck”.

We found _this_ dumbfuck at the pharmacy. He had barricaded himself in the staffroom, venturing out now and then to grab a bag of chips and a soda, and then running back to his little hideout. He came scurrying out without even checking to make sure the way was clear and almost got his ass shot.

All Scott saw was a moving body, and it wasn’t one he recognized. If it hadn’t been for his bum arm, Shane would be a dead man. Or at least an injured one.

We almost left him behind. We probably _should’ve_. He’s an idiot. a grade A, first class _idiot_. He’s also a pharmacist though, so he was a big help when we were gathering medicine to take with us. With him there, we were able to hit up two other drug stores before we got to the docks.

Oh, and Dave did some scavenging on his own. He took the bike Abby and I has found and rode off after we picked up Shane.

I was _pissed_. Scott had _just_ been injured doing the _same damn thing_ , but hey, whatever. I told him if he wasn’t at the pier when we got there, we were leaving without him.

He caught up with us as we were leaving the last pharmacy. We all have shoes now. And maps. And ropes. And a few plastic water bottles. We emptied some of the glass jar of water into the plastic ones so we could make more molotovs. I was expecting trouble when we got to the Narrows, but we got past the bridge, no problem.

We’re camped at the little island in the bay now (I forget the name of it. There’s the bigger one and a little one. We’re on the little one). Everyone but Jason and I are sleeping. I’m fucking _exhausted_ , but we all agreed. At least two people on watch at all time. Jason managed to catch a little bit of a nap on the boat earlier, so he volunteered to sit with me. We both ate ourselves a can of ravioli (Ben offered to cook it on the boat stove thing, but we decided not to risk it for now). When the sun is up, it’ll be their turn to eat, and our turn to nap.

I’m writing this to keep myself awake. Jason is practicing tying knots. Ben showed him a couple, and drew him a picture of the sails and stuff so he can learn the different parts of the boat and what they do. Ben is supposed to give Dave and Scott some sailing lessons when they all get up. Ben’s gonna look over the boat we nabbed, too. Supposed to give us some idea of what it can do, and how fast it’ll go.

So anyway, we got to the docks…and, oh, _that_ part was fun.

Ben was right. There _were_ two boats left. He just neglected to mention that they were both _sailboats_. Abby knows how to drive a stick? shift? Automatic, I don’t fucking know, a _regular_ boat. One with an _engine_. Not one with the flappy sail thing, and _especially_ not fucking _huge_ ones like these,

And even better: as we’re standing there, looking at the boats like “wtf??”, guess what started coming into view?

Did you guess a bunch of fluffy wabbits with cute wittle noses and cottonpuff tails? Cause if you did, you’re fucking stupid. Just sayin’.

Scott has done _some_ sailing, so he took over the bigger boat. He took Dave and Shane with him. Abby, the kids and I got on the other. We untied (undocked? unmoored? I don’t know what to call it) the boats, and _thankyougodorwhoeverisupthere_ , the boats had engines.

Didn’t do us much good without the keys, but Scott threw out a rope, we tied it to the front thingy and we managed to get away from the dock enough that we didn’t have to worry about the trolls. Dave said he knew how to hotwire a car, and, it took some finageling (however you spell the damn word…) but we got him onto _our_ boat and he worked his magic.

We got…kinda turned around, looking for Ben. He said he’d be waiting at the south tip, but not how or where exactly. We didn’t even know what he looked like, and we were worried about getting too close to shore and damaging the boats, so we’re just kinda….floating there, not knowing what to do, _trying_ to see if we can spot anyone moving. We finally spotted someone paddling out to us on a kayak.

He got onboard, made the guys bring up his kayak for him, then showed them how to get the boats right next to each other _right_ without bumping so we could all talk.

He’s the one that suggested the little island. He said it was close enough that the boats would be able to reach it without running out of gas, and since it’s not open to the general public, the islands _should_ be empty. The only problem is that they’re easily visible from the shore, but as long as bandits haven’t gone to sea, we’ll be okay.

Oh, and Scott managed to get himself in my good graces.

When we were at the store and Shane was blathering on about how useful he could be, Scott told him to shut up, got our people busy getting what we need, and pulled me aside.

him: “We agreed. You’re in charge of planning shit. I’m in charge of killing shit. Here’s my opinion: he’s a loudmouth, and an idiot. He’s gonna get us all killed. We should leave him behind.”

me: “I agree, but he also gave us useful information, and might be useful later on. _W_ e’re going to need all the leverage we can get when, _if_ , we run into other survivors, and medicine is important to staying alive in the long run.”

him: “So what do we do now?”

me: “we get him out of the city, at least. we’ll probably be on the boat for a while. Maybe by the time we reach land, we’ll be able to teach him some skills to actually be worth keeping around. If not, we part ways.”

him: “fine, but if he starts running his mouth or doing something that puts my niece at risk, I will split his fucking skull.”

All paraphrased of course, but still. Scott is apparently over his “me Tarzan, you Jane. I lead, you follow” bullshit, so I am fucking thrilled.

Course, it could all also be for show, who fucking knows.

Ugh. Running out of stuff to say. Jason keeps asking what I’m writing, and why I’m writing it. I told him, eventually someone will find this. It might be an alien civilization at this point, or a new form of intelligent species might take over once the humans are gone, but whatever it is, they’ll need to know this part of our history. It’s a fucked up “how did this even happen?!” part, but it’s still history.

Oh my god, I’m yawning my brains out. What else is there…

The boats are nice. I’m not sure what kind they are, but they’re pretty big. There’s enough room that everyone is on a bed. They’re sharing, but still beds are good.

Oh! something to add to the “shopping list”: a tool set. It doesn’t have to be big, but you never know when you might need a screwdriver or a wrench, you know? I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, honestly.

Oh thank fuck, the sun is up. Time for sleep.

 

* * *

 

 ~~sometime after noon~~ 2:45pm (thanks Ben)

Writing this while Jason and I eat something real quick.

I don’t remember all the specs, but the boat we have is a “Tayana” something, and it’s not bad. Ben gave some sailing lessons while Jason and I were napping, and they made up some plans (Scott’s on a roll here. Ben wanted to get a move on while I was sleeping, but Scott insisted they run the plans by me before we did anything).

So, plans.

First things, first, we’re getting the fuck outta dodge. We’re not far from the mouth of the bay, and then we’ll be out on the ocean. I was hoping we could stay on the boat all the way down to the Carolina coast, but Ben says that’s a no go. Not with us not knowing our main sail from a hole in the ground. The gas we have will only get us so far, and that’ll have to do.

Since we can’t get all the way down to the Carolinas, Ben is going to try and get us at least past Jersey. He said if we stick somewhat near the coast, he’ll be able to paddle in when we’re near a few port towns and see about siphoning out some gas for us to use. I suggested just grabbing a new boat from the docks, but Ben said 1) we can’t count on Dave being able to hotwire any old boat we come across, 2) the boat we have is one of the better ones out there, so we should stick with what we have, 3) we can’t be sure that the boat we nab won’t have trolls aboard, 4) the longer we stay near land, the more risk we have of trolls and/or bandits spotting us.

We have enough food that it shouldn’t be a problem to stay out at sea for that long, so that part is fine.

Ben says we’ll need to take frequent breaks since we’re not used to being on the water, and we have kiddos with us. We’re also going to be passing by a national park thing where people camp, so depending on how the coast looks, we might use that as a stopping point. I was worried about it being crawling with trolls, but Ben says it’s not a busy season yet and there’s the coast guard on the other side of the peninsula (sand bar?) thing, so anyone who _was_ there, was probably evacuated.

If the coast is clear, Dave and I are gonna check around for deserted campsites. Ben had a tent and some basic camping gear on his boat, so that brings us up two tents…for nine people. Yeah, not gonna work. We need more tents, and more sleeping bags. Preferably cold weather ones. We’re having a warm spell at the moment, but that won’t last long. The sky is already starting to look kinda grey, and I didn’t remember to check the weather before we left, so for all I know, we’re all fucked. Again.

So yeah, we’re basically going to hop and skip down the coast, picking up supplies and gas where we can. Ben says Delaware is only about six or seven hours, but with all the stops we’ll need to make, we should try and get at least half the distance out of the way, before nightfall, if we can. I have no idea how this is going to work, but hey. We’ll see.

Okay, we’re done eating. Time to get on the road (ha).

 

* * *

 

8:30pm

We’re…kinda camped? The boats are anchored off a beach. We’re squatting in one of the beach houses. Ben says we’re still off the Jersey coast, but we had to stop while we could still see well enough to do it safely.

The camp site thing on the other side of Sandy Hook was a bust. We ran into the coast guard. They have the _whole_ peninsula blocked off. They let us pass, but we had to let them search the boats. It was a lot more low key than I expected, to be honest. According to the guy in charge of the inspection(?), they only stopped us cause we were headed to shore. They’re more worried about people trying to get _in_ , then out.

While the grunts were searching the boats, I asked Mr. In Charge if there were any updates on the whole FUBAR sitch. There really wasn’t anything new. The cause of the outbreak is still unknown, so there’s still no cure. There are symptoms to look out for though.

It starts out with a headache. Then they start getting dizzy and nauseous. From there, it goes downhill. They said it’s almost like the person develops dementia or alzheimer’s, but it moves _really_ fast. Within a day, they start forgetting things like how to drive, or ride a bike. They get lost if they stray too far from home. On the second day, they start fixating on people. They’ll call a person’s name and try to get as close to the person as they can, sniffing at them. They also start giving off this cloyingly sweet smell. Day 3 is the end. They lose their vision early in the day, and within a couple hours, they’re throwing up blood. When the vomit turns black, the change is complete. Bash their head in or start running your ass off.

They said there’s been a few cases where it didn’t even take a full 3 days, so to keep a really close eye on anyone who shows the symptoms, even if it’s just the first day.

When they were done checking the boat over, they offered to let us stay on base, but I told them we have a destination in mind. They couldn’t give us any extra supplies, and they wouldn’t allow us to scavenge any tents from the park area, but they were helpful in their own way. They warned us that a storm is making its way up the coast and we would need to find a place to shelter by tomorrow night.

We left Shane behind.

When the guy told us about the symptoms, Abby just about yanked my arm out of the socket. Apparently Timmy and Chloe, both, were complaining about Shane. Chloe said he smelled weird, and Timmy said he kept looking at them “funny” and was sniffling a lot.

I don’t remember him saying anything about a headache or whatever, but I guess it would explain him not checking for trolls before running out of the break room last night. And the way he kept just kept repeating the same thing over and over again. “I know the drugs, I know what medicines you need. I know the drugs.”

I talked it over with the guard. He agreed to take Shane with them, but I’d be surprised if Shane actually made it to land without a bullet to his brain.

Anyway. Like I said. We’re camped.

Ben had to take his boat to ground, get it anchored or whatever, then paddle out to Abby and mine’s boat to take us in. Then, he and Dave hot wired a truck off the street to tow the boats even more inland. Something about high tide, which actually kinda made sense (yay me!)

The boats needed gas, and the roads were pretty deserted, so they took the bike into town, Ben riding on the fucking handlebars, I almost hurt myself trying not to laugh too loud. They came back and jerry rigged the cart to drag along behind them, then went _back_ and brought back about 8 of those big red gas can things. It took a while, but the boats are fully loaded with gas, and we have about 40 extra gallons of gas to go with it.

Scott and I broke into one of the houses facing the beach. Found a couple dead bodies in the bedroom upstairs. Looks like they blew their brains out, but we didn’t find the gun. We locked the door to that room and checked the rest of the house. Once we were sure it was clear, we brought Abby and the kids in.

Our “host” had a freezer full of tv dinners and frozen pizzas, so we all had a hot meal tonight. We have all the windows covered and the doors are locked. Dave ate his dinner by the back window. He’s keeping an eye on the boats.

Every once in awhile, a troll will shuffle by out front. It’s a male. He keeps walking from one end of the street to the other. I’m not sure if he was following Dave and Ben on one of the runs earlier, and lost them at the end of the street or what, but it’s making things a bit tense.

On the upside, we found two more bikes in the garage (Dave was _so_ annoyed when he and Ben got back the first time and saw them. oops?), and a couple sleeping bags. Still no extra tent, but with Shane gone, we might be able to make do.

There will always be two people on watch, so we only need sleeping space for six of us. Abby and the kids will have my tent. It’ll be a tight fit with all four of them, but they should fit. That leaves only two other people. If they don’t mind the closeness, they could probably fit in Ben’s little one-man tent. It’d be a hell of a tight fit, but it’s better than nothing.

Jason also offered up his spot in the main tent when he’s helping keep watch, so there’s that, too. Still gonna be keeping my eyes open for another tent. And we need at least one more sleeping bag.

We made a cake. We found the mix in the pantry. I didn’t trust the eggs in the fridge, and we didn’t have any milk, so the guys went for another ride to the gas station. This time they went all out. They grabbed the milk and eggs, but they also brought back _all_ of the ramen and canned foods they could find, and a bunch of frozen pizzas. They brought back ice cream, too. It’s been seven days since this shit started, and we’re all alive. Seems like a good enough reason to me for a little party.

Besides, Abby informed me, with all the food she found in the pantry, the food the guys brought back, and what we already had, we should be good for about a week, if we’re careful. We’ll be eating a _lot_ of ramen, so the water isn’t going to last us very long, but at least we don’t have to worry about food.

We’re working on a watch shift, but we can’t really implement it yet. Not when only three of us can actually make the boat _go_ somewhere. So for now, Jason and I are keeping watch til around one.  Then Jason is going to bed and Dave will take his place til dawn.

Hate to say, but as much as I dislike having a large group, it would be a _lot_ easier if we had a couple more adults. It’s going to be hell trying to cart Chloe through the woods and crap. I’m trying to think if there’s a way we could put Chloe in that cart we found, but we need that for the suitcases. Maybe we could sit her on top of them?

I don’t fucking know. We’ll figure something out. We have to. In the meantime, I’m going to close this for the night. It’s already 10. Time to change places with Jason. I’m tired of looking at the street. Now I get to go stare at the boats instead. Woohoo. So excited.

See you tomorrow.


	6. Announcement.

Some of you may have noticed that only the first five chapters of “Say ‘No!’ to Zombies” are still available. This is because SNtZ has reached a critical stage: querying. 

Yup. That’s right. I have officially begun to send my baby out to the scary world of publishers and agents. Currently, I still plan on posting the sequel, "Don't Feed the Trolls," to [my blog](http://tiffanycrystalauthor.com) and here, but that may also change. I make no promises on that front, beyond that I will try to keep you all updated. On that note, right now, the best place to go for updates is my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mishilen) or [blog](http://tiffanycrystalauthor.com).   

For those of you wondering when I'll start posting "Don't Feed the Trolls" chapters, I am aiming for Thursday, September 20th. 

To the rest of you, wish me luck.

-Tiffany


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